


seaside lullaby

by meggiewrites



Series: the song of the sea [2]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Falling In Love, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Near Death Experiences, Parenthood, Some Fishermen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 08:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16552052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggiewrites/pseuds/meggiewrites
Summary: Ever since his friends left town, Mats has been feeling lonely. But then one fateful afternoon, he gets rescued by a handsome fisherman.





	seaside lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> Mats' story in _and the sea sings to us both_ felt a bit unfinished and I really wanted him to have his happy ending too – I had this idea for this coda ever since I finished that fic, and I finally got around writing it!
> 
> Can be read as a standalone, but of course I'd be delighted if you delighted to read the first story before tackling this one, but if not (SPOILERS) all you basically need to know that Manuel is a lonely merman who gets stranded on the beach and is found by Thomas, who after some ups and downs becomes his boyfriend.
> 
> Unbeta'd, I hope you enjoy. Unofficial score to this one is the _Song of the Sea_ soundtrack which you can find [here](https://youtu.be/-ionOzjravQ) – feel free to listen along as you read, if you'd like!

Mats doesn’t exactly know what took him to take his rubber boat out to the sandbanks that day.

Maybe he did it because it’s supposed to be his last day in this place where he’s made and lost some great friends – not to an argument, but to distance put between them – where he’s seen so many wonders and encountered so many more.

The Cathy (his sailing boat, not his ex) isn’t exactly the best to take on spontaneous little trips, not when getting her ready to sail is a laborious ordeal, so his little rubber raft it is. It’s a bright orange thing, patched up in several places, that has certainly seen better days.

That day, Mats loaded it with a small basket with food, a quilted vest in case it got even colder, his notebook and a waterproof pen. His thoughts have always moved differently on the water, the flow of the words clouding his mind smoother, clearer, not as chaotic. It makes him more productive and he appreciates writing at sea more than most things in life; it’s one of the reasons he decided to live on a boat anyway.

This time isn’t any different. Page after page are filled with his thoughts about this little town, the people he’s met there, the months he’s spent here. It has been almost a year now, and especially since Thomas and Manuel left, he has been feeling lonely in a way that he’s almost forgotten existed.

It’s that one thought that makes him stop, look up from his journal and stare out at the horizon. The sky is clear, not a single cloud to be seen, so he lays down on his back, crossing his arms behind his head, staring up at the endless blue, floating on a motionless sea. Only for ten minutes, he tells himself, then he’d better make his way back to port. After all, the dark comes soon in November, and his little boat has no lights or ways to communicate other than his phone.

But he’s not far from the coast, can still clearly see the people talking walks on the beach, so it’s not like anything could happen.

He can’t remember falling asleep, but he wakes up to high waves rocking his boat, making it creak and groan like an old animal, piling up higher and higher.

Mats sits up, desperately grasping at the two plastic handles on either side of the boat to keep him inside. Already, there is a thin layer of water pooling around his feet, drenching his sneakers until they seem as heavy as solid bricks. He feels nauseous, and only when he looks up again does he realize that the sky is crowded with angry, dark gray clouds, disrupted by the occasional lightning lighting up the eerie scenery.

Only then does he realize in how much trouble he actually is.

He feels bile and panic rising in his throat and just barely resists the urge to throw up on his feet, his stomach churning both from the hectic movements of his craft and the fear pooling deep down.

He can’t make out the horizon anymore, doesn’t even know which direction he’d need to steer. It’s getting dark, and soon, everything that he sees is heavy, black rain and dark waves crashing over him, threatening to topple his boat and with that, dragging him to his certain death.

You can survive only a couple minutes in the cold winter sea, Mats knows, approximately as many minutes as the water is cold. Now, at the end of November, it likely wouldn’t more than five. It’s enough for him to realize that he won’t make it back ashore, not with a boat that’s barely more useful than a rubber duck in a storm like this, not when there is no chance that he could keep himself adrift if he was capsized.

Sadly, that realization doesn’t mean his death would come quickly and painlessly.

For what feels like an eternity, he just holds onto his boat, clutching it like this frail, fragile lifeline. He doesn’t even dare to turn on the outboard motor, not when he’d only waste petrol with no idea which direction to go.

But then, when he’s almost given up, when he’s almost ready to send one last hurried prayer to a god he’s never truly believed in and throw himself overboard, he sees the light.

It’s almost microscopically small, lighting up only once before going out again, making Mats’ stomach drop before it’s suddenly turned on again. The lighthouse! Thomas’ lighthouse! A place where he spent so many hours – now it was his shining beacon, the light at the end of the tunnel. His only hope.

He turns on the motor with numb fingers, cursing when it throttles only seconds after, trying again and again, but not being able to get it to work. By then, he’s so terribly cold that he almost doesn’t feel the freezing cold anymore, his clothes soaked in icy water.

He lets out a weak cry when his boat bumps against something. It’s almost immediately drowned in the roar of the storm, and Mats can’t tell if it’s tears or raindrops running down his cheeks anymore. Mentally, he pulls up the image of his mother, his brother, even Thomas and Manuel, smiling at each other and laughing with him.

In that moment, Mats Hummels is ready to die.

He can feel himself drifting into unconsciousness, and the last thing he can remember is that he’s sure must have imagined the strong arms pulling him up.

▻▻▻

When he first wakes up, he isn’t sure if he’s actually in heaven, if such a place even existed in the afterlife.

It’s comfortably warm, and the walls of the room surrounding him in are white, a naked lightbulb emitting cozy, warm light. He’s nestled on a small plank bed, covered with two soft woolen blankets.

“Hey,” someone whispers next to his bedside, and only then does he realize that the room is swaying slightly, making the owner’s face blur in front of his eyes.

“Are you an angel?” he blurts out.

In retrospect, Mats knows how stupid that must have sounded. But in that moment, trembling, his body running inexplicably hot after feeling like he seconds ago was encompassed by paralyzing cold, faced with a beautiful stranger with hair the shade of gold and eyes as a green as a summer meadow, it seemed more plausible than you’d think.

The man chuckles. “No. You must have a fever. No wonder, you were more dead than alive when I fished you out of the ocean.” He shakes his head, softly but incredulously, and Mats can’t help but notice how beautiful his smile is. “What in God’s name where you thinking, going out on your own in that tiny rubber boat?!”

Mats has no idea. His throat feels rough, his voice weak, not his own. He coughs. “Did you save me?”

The stranger regards him pensively, tilting his head before reaching down, brushing a stubborn curl out of Mats’ forehead. His fingertips are rough, coarse. “I did. I don’t think I would have spotted you if I hadn’t been looking for my last net though. I couldn’t afford to lose another one.”

He’s a fisherman then, Mats concludes. He frowns; they aren’t usually this young – nor this beautiful – but he doesn’t get to ask as his savior continues.

“You were unconscious, but still shivering violently. You felt ice-cold to the touch, almost as if you were already dead. I feared you were, actually, so I was almost relieved when after wrapping you in my warmest things, I realized you were sleeping.”

He checks a clock attached to one of the metal walls, “you slept for almost eight hours.”

Mats clears his throat, barely suppressing a cough. “I’m sorry for imposing on you,” but the fisherman only shakes his head.

“You stared death in the eyes. It was the least I could do.”

The look in his eyes is warm, and suddenly, Mats doesn’t know if he ever wants to leave the fisherman’s boat ever again.

And that is really saying something, as it really does reek of fish.

▻▻▻

The fisherman’s name is Benedikt – “Call me Benni. Or Bene. Whichever you prefer.” – and he has an arm wrapped around Mats’ waist as they slowly make their way to the Cathy.

He’s shorter than him, though not by much, and surprisingly strong. He looks out of place when they stop in midst of his colleagues, weathered old men with strained backs and hunching figures who immediately crowd them, asking what happened, but he talks like them, and Mats can only stand and listen as Benedikt recounts how he rescued him.

“Shouldn’t we bring him to the hospital?” The man who asked is called Markus. He’s a kind soul – Mats interviewed him for his mermaid article, and even then the old man had hosted him with an unsuspected kindness, offering him tea and biscuits alongside his old stories that were filled with wonder.

Benedikt casts Mats a sorrowful look, but Mats only shakes his head. “I’m fine, I promise.” He’s interrupted by a coughing fit, so he hurries to shoot his audience a crooked grin, “nothing that a can of good coffee and some bedrest can’t solve.”

He knows it’s a miracle that a heavy cold seems to be the only consequence his near-death experience would have. That, and the heavy hand of a handsome young fisherman on his hip that Mats wishes could stay there forever.

The other fishers leave them alone as Bene insists taking him him home (the nickname tastes like honey on his tongue, smooth and mellow, soothing and sweet) and something flutters in his stomach, but he falters as soon as he’s confronted with the Cathy. Somehow, over the storm, she has developed a list, and it’s enough to make him curse and fear for the worst as he unlocks the hatch.

He realizes it’s worse when he sees that the whole floor is covered in an inch of water. Luckily, most his books appear to still be dry, most of them secured on their shelves (well, apart from his soon-to-be-read pile that he’d been keeping on the floor next to his bench, he acknowledges mournfully) but the boat itself looks like it’s taken the worst damage it has in years.

He tears his hair, whimpering when it only makes his head hurt worse, then groans.

“Oh shit.” Bene’s voice is subdued behind his shoulder, and it’s clear he realized the obvious as well; it would take weeks to fix this damage, maybe even more, and a whole lot of money that Mats doesn’t have.

▻▻▻

A few hours later, they’re sitting in Bene’s galley again. It’s a nice space, although tiny, Mats muses, painted in a warm, light yellow with deep blue accents. He’s clutching a cup of coffee – incredibly good coffee, a lot better than the slop he usually gets in town – and observes his host with a fondness he just can’t seem to get rid of.

Bene has a second second bunk that he says he usually uses to store his clothes on, and when he saw Mats standing in the damp ruins of his home, it took him exactly two seconds and one glance in Mats’ direction to offer that he could stay with him for a few days. “Or weeks.”

He lives on his boat full time, he explained. same as Mats. “I couldn’t afford the rent for an apartment at the port anymore.” Mats smiled a dry smile. He knew exactly what that felt like; it had been one of the biggest reasons he’d decided to live on the Cathy full-time anyway.

It took them quite a while to move all his books – ten boxes full, making Mats realize he might have a book hoarding problem – his clothes and some other necessities over to the small fishing boat. Its living quarters seemed barely big enough for two people, even if it was decidedly bigger than Mats’ little yacht had been. On the other hand, apart from a handful of guests who had never stayed longer than a couple hours, Mats has always lived on his own. But even if it felt cramped, somehow, he didn’t mind. And now, with someone else next to him, somehow, he minds even less.

It has only taken one short inspection by a shipwright for Mats to realize he won’t be able to afford the repairs any time soon. The damage is plenty, and his income unsteady at best, so in the end he hired someone to tow it to an abandoned shipyard outside of town where the Cathy would stay until further notice.

“I’ll get paid after my next project,” Mats said with a sigh, “I promise I will get out of your hair as soon as possible … maybe someone in the city rents out a room?” But Bene only shook his head.

“I really don’t mind. I haven’t had company in forever.”

And truly, it has only taken these few hectic days for them to truly become friends, to realize how much they enjoy each other’s company.

And not that much longer for Mats to realize how screwed he is.

After two weeks, he can’t think of anything anymore but how Bene’s laugh is a warm rumble and how his smile makes the sun shine out of his eyes and how Mats never gets tired of searching for constellations on his cheeks. He’s taciturn when he’s working, and usually Mats stays out of his way the second he starts up the engine at four in the morning, turning back around in his bunk as Bene casts out the nets, but by the third week of living together, as he sleepily blinks at him while the fisherman struggles to get into his overalls, Bene shoots him a timid grin.

“Wanna see the sunrise? It’s really beautiful when you’re on the open ocean, especially at this time of the year.”

It’s also cold as a witch’s tit, snow gently drizzling from the sky, and Mats gathers the blanket he grabbed from below deck tighter around himself. Bene is only wearing a thin woolen sweater, a dark green hat and no gloves, but when Mats sends him an incredulous glance, he only shrugs.

Mats quickly realizes that while he isn’t really much of a help and can’t do much but being in his the way, Bene appreciates his presence, so he makes the trek below deck only to come back with a can full of steaming hot coffee and two pieces of toast and another jacket that he puts over his first one. Bene accepts the coffee and his plate with a smile, and Mats feel his heart race when the blond’s fingers linger on the back of his hand as he hands him the cup.

The second time he gets up to join him for fishing a few days later, Bene shows him how to handle the nets. A week after that he teaches him how to gut the fish, and even if Mats spends the first two hours carving tiny nicks into his fingers with his knife, and turning up his nose at the smell, he learns quickly, and after a few days, he starts feeling like isn’t a burden to Bene anymore.

He hasn’t written anything he intends to publish in weeks, but instead crafts poems about freckles like constellations and eyes the colour of the winter sea. Somehow, he doesn’t even feel guilty about it.

(In some wild moments, he even dreams about selling the Cathy and staying with Bene forever.)

It’s getting closer to Christmas, and Mats doesn’t want to think about the invitation from his mum, asking that he could spend the holidays with them, and instead spends his evenings in Benedikt’s galley, laughing, smiling, playing cards. Usually it’s just the two of them, but sometimes some of the other fishermen join them, and in a way that Mats almost isn’t used to, it feels like a strange little family on its own.

Somehow, it feels like Mats has come home.

▻▻▻

It’s on a Sunday morning, the bay lightly covered by a fragile layer of ice, when they haul in the nets and there’s something tangled in it.

Bene notices it first, cursing and shooting Mats a quick look. His overalls look teal in the dim light, but Mats knows they’re a deep blue, just like his own, that he only brought the other week, are a bright yellow.

“Probably a baby seal. Only happened to me once before, and the little guy was already dead when I got him out.”

Mats’ stomach drops and he starts to work faster. Bene’s ship is small, so the pulley is hand-operated. They both flinch when the clump of seaweed hits the slippery metal floor of the deck. It’s painted green; the dark backdrop makes their catch look some kind of odd painting.

The bundle isn’t big, not bigger than a small dog, but too big to only be a tangle of algae.

Bene crouches down. His hands are shaking as he untangles the net. Suddenly he startles as if he’s been burnt.

“Oh my god. It’s still breathing.”

Quickly, he starts to tear up the seaweed, layer by layer, and Mats’ heart starts to beat faster as he uncovers brass-coloured scales, too shimmery to belong to a fish, too strange, too –

Bene gets up with a jolt, his eyes wide, disbelieving.

Mats, with the suspicion already growing in his mind, takes a step closer.

It’s a baby. From the waist up, she looks almost completely normal, with skin so light it’s almost white, chubby, smooth limbs, tiny hands clenched into fists and a head full of thick black hair almost as long as her arms.

But then there’s the tail. The same colour as the seaweed, smooth, endeared by fins with edges that are still unjarred, new.

Mats’ isn’t quite sure that Bene is still breathing, but he can’t be concerned about him when the little girl’s nose is literally turning blue. After all, it’s not the first time he encountered a merperson.

Quickly, he reaches down, bundling her up in his arm and wrapping his jacket around her as well as possible. She’s surprisingly light, but Mats shudders as his fingers brush over her skin.

“She’s as cold as ice. We need to get her inside, Bene, and into warm water as quickly as possible.”

Bene stares at him as if he’s gone crazy. Then he dissolves in a coughing fit. While Mats patiently waits for him to calm down, he presses the little mergirl closer to his chest.

“How,” one last cough escapes Bene’s throat, “how are you not freaked out by this?”

Mats winces. “Yeah, about that,” he hesitates for a moment before deciding that it’s best not to beat around the bush anymore, “my best friend’s boyfriend might be a merman? At least he was. I mean he doesn’t have his tail anymore, lives in Munich now.” He waves his hand. “You know.”

Bene looks at him like he very much doesn’t know. And that he might very well think that Mats has gone crazy.

Mats sighs. He shivers, lifts his gaze and lets it roam over the sky. It has begun to snow even as the sun is pushing through.

“Let’s go inside, yeah? I promise I will explain.”

▻▻▻

After Mats told him the whole story, Bene buries his face in his hands.

“So you met and befriended the lighthouse keeper Sam hired, who then found a merman on the beach? And now they’re in love?” he mumbles, his voice laced with disbelief and exhaustion.

Mats nods and takes a sip of his coffee.

He’s still straddling the mergirl close – it takes a while for the water in the boiler to heat up. Bene doesn’t have a real bathtub, but there’s a wooden tub he usually uses to clean the fish in that’s just big enough for their little found treasure. It smells a bit, but knowing her origin, Mats is sure the baby doesn’t mind. Her eyes are still shut, but she has closed her tiny hand around Mats’ finger. Her grip is surprisingly strong even if she looks so fragile.

Bene groans. When he looks up again, his hair is all messy from when he ran his fingers through it again and again. It makes him look pretty cute in Mats’ humble opinion, even if he still looks a bit disturbed.

“Merpeople. Oh jesus.” He shakes his head. “And I always thought the others were crazy when they told tales of the giant fishtails they spotted out in the bay.”

He casts the girl another look, then tentatively extends his hand to brush his fingertips over her fins, then over her cheeks that are slowly gaining colour again.

His eyes are serious when he looks at Mats again.

“Could you call him? … Manuel?”

Mats nods, fumbling for his phone. He is big enough to admit that they need help with this. A lot of help. “Sure.”

▻▻▻

Mats’ mother is disappointed when he lets her know that he wouldn’t be spending the holidays with them after all. Now that he has to cancel on her, Mats realizes how much he’d have liked to visit after all. He misses his family, even if he somehow, miraculously, found another one. He makes a weak promise to visit in January while he casts a glance to the other side of the galley where Bene is rocking the mergirl in his arms.

They named her Frieda the day after they fished her out of the sea, and Mats isn’t sure if she has properly warmed up to them yet.

She opened her eyes the second they placed her in the warm water of the tub, and they were a deep amber color that cut right through Mats’ heart. She usually cuddled into his arms when he picked her up, and seemed to observe Bene quite a lot, blinking at him with wide eyes whenever the blond interacts with her, but other than that, she hasn’t given them any sign that she likes being with them.

It was Manuel who told them what to feed her – warm milk and cereal mash mixed with chopped-up raw fish (absolutely disgusting, but according to Manu, similar enough to what merpeople usually feed their babies when they are older than eight months, which seems around the right age) – and after initial hesitation, she usually accepts the spoon with a frown.

Somehow, she fits into their strange life rather perfectly and has even managed to make Mats feel even more at home on the fishing boat as well – but still, she hasn’t made a single noise.

Now, Mats is standing on the deck, watching the sun go down with Frieda in his arms as Bene prepares dinner downstairs. Above his head, the seagulls are soaring through the sky, their cries hoarse and shrill. After almost three years of living by the sea, they feel almost comforting to Mats.

He flinches when suddenly, there’s a metallic thump when someone jumps on deck. He hastily tries to hide Frieda’s tail in his jacket, but grins when he realizes who their visitor is.

Manuel looks more comfortable in his human skin than he ever has, wrapped in a thick winter jacket, a red backpack hanging from his shoulder.

“Hey,” Mats grins. He’s always been closer to Thomas, but at the same time, somehow when he wasn’t paying attention, Manuel became his friend as well. It’s strange seeing him again, not far away from where they first met but it’s so glaringly obvious that they’re both at vastly different points in their lives.

Manu offers a happy shrug when Mats asks him how he’s been doing, even if he catches him casting a wistful look at the smooth sea before he quickly shakes his head and fixes his eyes on baby Frieda again.

The noise that leaves his mouth next sends a cold shiver down Mats’ spine. It’s something in between a quiet shriek, a gurgling noise, a hiss and the haunting noises that trees make when they move and groan during a storm. Manu only grins when he notices Mats gaping at him.

“Sorry. Felt right to greet her in our tongue. I can’t articulate the words quite right with these vocal chords, but it’s close enough that it should remind her of her family.”

And surprisingly enough, whatever Manu said makes Frieda extend her hands, grasping for one of his fingers, gripping it tight and not letting it go as she lets out a delighted giggle.

Mats hasn’t really seen her smile yet. It makes her look even more adorable.

Manu hisses something else, and Frieda laughs happily, the webs between her fingers tight around Manu’s human-looking ones. He sends Mats a smile.

“She’s feisty. She,” he gulps, “she reminds me of my baby cousin a lot.”

“Oh.” Mats sometimes forgets, what Manu gave up when he searched contact with humans, that he had a life, a family of his own.

This time, Manu’s shrug is painful, but then suddenly, his shoulders tense a bit when he looks over Mats’ shoulder and he assumes a more stoic expression. As he turns around, Mats spots Benedikt standing in the hatch, studying Manu with wide eyes.

“Was that ...?”

Manu’s smile grows devious as a mischievous glint lights up his eyes. “Mermish, yes. Merish? It’s not like there’s really a human term for it.” He extends his hand. “How are you doing? I’m Manuel.”

Bene frowns as he shakes it. “That’s a human name.”

That teases a genuine chuckle out of Manuel. “Yeah. I don’t believe any of you would be able to pronounce my birth name. But even if it wouldn’t sound like it to you, they’re actually similar enough.”

Bene stares at him for another awkward ten seconds, then he finally manages to shake himself out of it. “Right, sorry. Hi, I’m Benedikt.”

Manu lifts an eyebrow. “Mats told me you kindly offered him a roof – well, deck – above his head when his own abode got flooded.”

Bene nods. Maybe Mats is imagining it, but the look he sends in his direction seems especially tender. He returns it with a small smile. “Couldn’t just leave him without a home, not when I just fished him out of the ocean more dead than alive.”

“Why does that sound familiar,” Manu sighs and Mats grins, remembering how the merman and Thomas met while gently tugs his finger free from Frieda’s grip. She’s still staring at him with wide eyes, as if he is the most interesting thing she’s ever seen.

Bene looks at the two of them with eyes full of wonder, but it’s getting cold, the dusk approaching fast. Mats clears his throat.

“We should go under deck.”

▻▻▻

They end up gathering around the kitchen table. Benedikt has gripped Mats’ hand under the table for seemingly no reason other than being slightly wary of Manuel’s presence in their home, making Mats’ blood roar in his ears.

If he hadn’t known how bad this crush was already, he certainly would now.

Manu is cradling Frieda against his chest, cooing at her and talking to her in his strange language, singing to her, tickling her belly, making her giggle. Her voice sounds like light bells chiming, haunting but beautiful.

Halfway through the evening, when Bene stands in the galley, finishing up dinner – two portions of goulash and a big pot of fish soup for Manuel – Thomas video-calls them. Somehow, Mats is glad for it as he can feel that Bene still seems a bit suspicious of Manu.

But then Mats can see him observe the way Manu’s eyes grow soft when Thomas greets him with a “hey sweetheart”, how he suddenly looks so much more human than he has ever since he arrived, bashfully ducking his head when Thomas casually remarks that wind-reddened cheeks suit him. And suddenly, Bene treats him like any other guest. Suddenly, he starts to ask questions, as if his love for Mats’ friend was enough to convince him of Manuel’s humanity.

Manu, probably used to getting strange initial reactions from people who first find out about his secret, is happy to talk about his past and his people, and when Bene bursts out laughing at one of his tales, Mats knows the ice is truly broken.

For a few hours, they lose themselves in exchanging stories, until Mats notices that Frieda has fallen asleep where Manu has been rocking her in his arms, making everyone in the room focus on her again; on the reason they’ve gotten together in the first.

“She probably was abandoned during the storm,” Manu says. “It happens,” he adds when both Mats and Bene send him somewhat shocked looks. “We,” he hesitates, “we see childhood differently than you, you know? It’s the adults who matter most to our community, who secure our survival. This – this is a culture who casts out kids for wanting to play with humans. If a baby gets lost during a storm, no one will risk their life to save it. Not when the chance of finding it again is miniscule from the start.”

He turns his head away, not looking at either of them. Thomas never told Mats how Manuel found his way to him anyway, but by the hurt flickering over his features, he can only guess. He places a hand on Bene’s arm when he can see him wanting to ask about Manu’s past as well, which effectively shuts him up. Better not to wake sleeping sorrows, right?

He clears his throat. “So – there is no chance of getting her back to her own family?”

Manu shakes his head in disbelief as he pets Frieda’s hair.

“Shit,” Bene says, clearly dismayed.

Somehow, it’s relieving to see for Mats that he cares about her fate just as much as he does. Sure, he knew that he cared, but in the end, it was clear that he was wary of her being what she was.

Now, presented with another of her kind that clearly had so much kindness in him, he seems truly able to let go of that apprehension.

“I,” Manu hesitates, “on my drive up I thought about bringing her to Munich with me. If she liked me, which she seems to do.” He gnaws on his lips then sighs. “But I don’t really want to do that. Now she’s still too young, but in a year or two, she would transform to human form due to the distance to the ocean, and then? She probably won’t ever be able to get this back.”

“We’ve been bathing her in sea water every day, just like you told us,” Bene says, his voice subdued.

Manu nods. “It helps her stay connected to the ocean. And I can’t – won’t take that away from her. Not when it isn’t her own, conscious decision.” He hangs his head, “not when it’s already so hard on me.”

“Also,” a small smile graces his lips, “you might not know it, but she clearly already thinks of you two as her parents. And I know what you probably think, that she hasn’t opened up around you. But just because she didn’t know if she could trust you, doesn’t mean that she didn’t.”

Bene tilts his head. “How do you know?”

Manu only graces his question with a quiet chuckle. “If she didn’t trust you, this would have gone a whole lot different. I’m just saying, we don’t have shark-like teeth for nothing.”

▻▻▻

Manuel is only set to stay for two nights before heading back to Munich. “My mother-in-law expects me for Christmas dinner,” he said, awkwardly clearing his throat as he produced a delicate silver band dangling on a chain around his neck.

Mats only whistled “damn, that was quick!” but Manu only shrugged and explained that as someone with no track record of anything, it was hard for most people to believe he wasn’t an undocumented immigrant (“though technically, I am”) or a heinous criminal (“which I’m definitely not”). Only with help from several of Thomas’ friends, his parents, quite a few semi-legal actions and a lot of awkward explanations, they’d been able to produce some papers for him. Getting married to Thomas would only further root him in his human life, even if his dopey smile as slipped his engagement ring on his finger was enough to tell Mats that in the end, Thomas had proposed to him mostly because they were sickeningly in love.

He casts a wistful look over to where Bene is leaning against the rail. Sure, they might be co-parenting a little mermaid, but they’re a long shot from being able to call each other partners in much more than this strange arrangement.

Mats sighs. It has only taken him one suggestive eyebrow wiggle from Thomas through the screen of his computer for his pious intentions to crumble and admit what he’s known all along – he’s hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with Benedikt Höwedes, the angel who fished him out of the sea and saved his life.

He isn’t sure if that’s some strange form of Stockholm Syndrome, but in the end, it doesn’t really matter.

He loves Bene, and he needs to do something about it.

Right now, the object of his affections is observing Manuel and Frieda. How they can look so cheerful surrounded by ice-cold water, Mats has no idea.

Manu only shrugged when he asked him how Frieda had almost been freezing when they’d found her in Bene’s net, but usually, she seems fine with the cold. He mumbled something about exhaustion, lack of food and so on as he continued to strip on the deck of the boat before, only in his underpants, diving headfirst into the water.

His strokes are elegant, fluid, and even when next to Frieda’s tiny, fishlike body, he looks painstakingly human, there’s something in the way they both move that kindles a familiarity, that makes it so abundantly clear that they belong to the same species.

Bene looks mesmerized, as if he suddenly sees the wonder in this, realizing how groundbreaking it is to know that there are other fully sapient humanoid creatures on this planet that so similar but so so different to humans.

Manu and Frieda stay in the water for almost an hour before Manu’s lips start turning blue. He shakes his head like a wet dog when he gets out, cradling Frieda in his arms before passing her to Bene who quickly scrubs her down with a warm towel.

She smiles one of her precious smile at him; and even if Bene still flinches when he sees her sharp teeth, he tickles her side as she makes grabby hands for him, beaming back at her.

They all see Manu off together shortly after and Frieda pulls a face when he carefully hugs her once more before giving her to Mats who gently straps her to his chest before offering them a last wave and jumping over the rail and onto the pier.

After a few minutes, his tall figure disappears between the hunching buildings of the port. It’s a cold, foggy day, and the whole town seems deserted.

Mats sighs as he huddles closer to Bene, hesitating before carefully placing an arm around his shoulders.

“So I guess we’re officially a family then, the three of us.”

Bene chuckles. “I guess so.”

His eyes grow thoughtful when he turns to Mats again, studying with a scrutinizing gaze that has Mats shuffling his feet.

He startles when he feels Bene’s hand on his cheek. His eyes are as clear as a cold winter morning.

“Mats … I know you want to get the Cathy fixed and get back to your nomadic life eventually but you – I don’t want you to. You can start working again from here, you know? I can work on getting wifi, and we can use the spare storage space in the bow to create a bedroom for Frieda.”

He takes a deep breath. “I forgot what it was like to have people around me, to share my life with someone. I don’t know if I could cope without you. Especially not with her.” He gently thumbs over Frieda’s cheek. The smile he offers Mats is fragile, but Mats can’t do anything but gape.

For a few awkward seconds, neither of them dare to take their eyes off each other, until Mats finally shakes himself out of it. “Bene … Benedikt. God, I can’t believe this is happening.” He runs a hand over his face. “I’ve never wanted to leave. Not when you fished me out of the sea and my home suffered severe damage and you so selflessly let me stay here. Certainly not since I realized how lovely and kind you were. _Definitely_ not when I realized I’d fallen in love with you.”

Bene just blinks at him. And okay, to be fair, that was maybe a bit more than Mats had initially wanted to reveal, but what’s done is done.

Somehow, he expects Bene to ask if he heard right, to say something or maybe punch him square in the face, but instead, he just blinks once more, licking over his lips, before he grabs Mats’ by his giant woollen scarf, tugging him down before pressing his hot lips against Mats’. They taste like salt and his beard scratches Mats’ chin, and after an initial moment of being completely overwhelmed with new, exciting emotions, Mats doesn’t hesitate to frame that beloved face in his hands, finally doing what he secretly dreamed of for months.

It’s only when Frieda makes an unhappy noise from where she’s trapped between their bodies that they come up for air, smiling at each other like two loons as Bene thumbs over Mats’ cheekbones once more before lowering his head.

And it’s in that moment, when Bene’s eyes grow so incredibly soft, crinkles forming at the side of his eyes as he bows down to her, unwrapping her and lifting her up so that he can press their noses together, teasing a delighted gurgle out of their daughter, that Mats knows he wants to be with him forever.

And suddenly, he’s so all-encompassingly happy, that he almost misses the “did we squash you, _kleine Maus_? Did we? Oh, I’m so sorry.”

And somehow, suddenly, his whole world fits onto this small fishing boat. Or even better – somehow, this has _become_ his entire world.

▻▻▻

(Later that night, he catches Bene talking to Frieda in a strange sing-song when he tucks her into her small, makeshift bed. She is clutching a toy fish that Manuel carefully crafted out of dried seaweed that he found god-knows-where, and when her tiny eyes fall close and Bene turns around to find Mats hovering in the doorframe, he only shrugs.

“I listened to Manu very closely yesterday, you now.”

And then, he walks up to Mats, pulling him in a kiss that’s even more passionate than their first.)

 

**Author's Note:**

>   * Again, some info on what happens later:
>   * Frieda grows up on the fishing boat with Mats and Benni and eventually learns how to occasionally transform, but manages to find a good balance to appearing human and staying connected to the sea, mostly made possible cause they live on a boat
>   * Her mother tongue will be German, but her Uncle Manuel will teach her about her roots as well as he can, including their language and their traditions, often visiting with Thomas to celebrate them together
>   * I write FICTION about real people. None of this is intended to harm them or their reputation in any way
> 

> 
> Please leave kudos and maybe a comment if you liked it! | [tumblr](http://manuelmueller.tumblr.com/)


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